


First

by TheModernChromatic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheModernChromatic/pseuds/TheModernChromatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to sleep with guilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

**Author's Note:**

> for eruren week. I felt like flexing my writing style for this one. Also I'm reading heart of darkness, so some of the style is coming from that...
> 
> * * *

The candlelight flickered silently and cast the shadows of ghosts across the walls, occupying the spaces above, below, and in between every stone in the wall, unseen to the sleepers behind them. The night air was thick, and the exterior of the old, gothic manor danced with the shadows as the candle moved along as if by the hand of some somnambulist. Were the sky clear, the candle would be superfluous, but clouds hung heavy in the sky and the moon could not pierce them. All was silent as the grave.

The bearer of the candle proceeded at a pace leisurely enough to be considered pensive, but the movements were thoughtless. As leaden feet continued forward, the sepulcher darkness beckoned, only to be thrown aside by the light of the candle. The air hung stagnantly, solid and uncomfortably warm, but still the feet kept forward. The stillness was not broken by the sounds of footsteps, though they dragged across the ground, they seemed to leave not a pebble out of place.

The ghost shadows parted with the progression of the carrier, and the dim light of the little flame found purchase on the back of some unsuspecting sleeper, out of bed and out of place against the cool stone of the manor’s facade. Only upon identifying the little shape did the walker stop, but entirely without purpose. Such an excursion in the night was only purposed in being alone, and to disturb the sleeper would defeat the purpose. Yet, the value of the sleeper could not be overlooked. So far in the gloom of the forests, safety was relative but probable, however the risk wasn’t worth taking.

With gentle, deliberate steps, the insomniac moved, then knelt, holding the candle away and toward the neverending dark of the night. The sleeper’s eyes opened one at a time, large but squinted, with a tiny reflection of the candlelight in each. A sharp breath came from the waking figure, then relaxed.

“Ah, Commander. Sorry, I fell asleep.”

The sleeper rose sharply, faster than the insomniac still kneeling on the ground, and for a moment the candle threw its shadows upwards so that it seemed that the standing figure loomed high and ominously. From his knees, the commander rose to his full height and with him the light of the candle rolled shadows over the valuable sleeper. There was not a hint of tone in the commander’s voice.

“You need to sleep, but not here. Go back inside.”

The gravel could not stay silent under the heel of the commander as he turned and made to head in the opposite direction, leaving the little creature he’d stumbled across in the rapacious darkness.

“I can’t sleep in there. I’ll suffocate.”

There was no denying the impending asphyxiation, and for a moment the commander stopped walking and peered past his candlelight as if he could see their solutions just where the light would not reach. The commander’s shoulders fell with a resigned sigh. He spoke without facing his interlocutor.

“Will you at least go inside?”

“I can’t. I feel like I’m being watched in there.”

The commander took a moment of contemplation, still eyeing the darkness, but with unseeing eyes. The candlelight moved more, gave off more heat and seemed more like a living being than the commander in that moment, but it passed as quickly as it began and the commander turned halfway to face the one who, much like himself, could stand the ghosts’ shadows on the walls far better than their cries from the inside. Ignoring sounds that cannot be heard was difficult enough, without trying to sleep on top of it, and for a moment the commander was comforted to know that there were others who knew of the ghosts’ cries within the walls.

“You can’t stay out here by yourself.”

The commander knew he could give the order to make his subordinate return to the safety of the stone walls, but he wouldn’t condemn the boy to suffering through the specters of the night. But he knew he was right, whether it was his sense of duty as a commander, or simply common sense as a man, he couldn’t leave the sleeper to the hungry darkness by himself. He remained motionless as behind him the sleeper gathered himself and caught up to him to where his face was half-illuminated by the candle. There were no words between them for that moment, only the quiet examination of cold blue eyes on mysterious green ones. The sleeper held out his hand for the candle, so as to relieve the commander’s sole hand of its burden, and the commander obliged, passing the little light between them. Another moment passed, then they seemed to unfreeze simultaneously.

“Come along, Eren.”

“Yes sir.”

How many times they circled the ancient stones, neither could say, but it seemed to both of them that the night was endless so they kept walking, silent and languidly, as though swimming through the thick air. Both came to a slow halt the moment the clouds parted just enough for a sliver of moonlight to pierce through.

“Fine night,” said one, though the integrity of the statement was questionable.

The other hummed in agreement.

Before they continued walking, mindless and slow as before, the sleeper made a move without saying a word, his hand sliding into the commander’s without the slightest hesitation. The commander made no motion to even acknowledge the hand in his, the two standing and staring at the moonlight until the clouds reclaimed the sky and they started their slow pace again.

The night seemed as restless as the pair, occasionally letting the moon slip through again, but maintaining the solidity of the dark night around them, still humid and heavy. Every once in awhile, it seemed to change its mind on being unbearably hot, though neither the sleeper nor the commander mentioned it. In its indecision, the night would give a gust of wind, almost a sigh, and it was one of these that successfully extinguished the candle like that had been the intention the entire night.

Enveloped in darkness, but undeterred by it, the pair stopped again, waiting for the next gap in the clouds, or perhaps daylight itself.

“Shame the candle went out,” the other mused tonelessly.

In the darkness, the first nodded.

They continued standing there, until the sleeper tugged down on the commander’s hand and the two sat against the wall like old stones themselves. Both pretended they weren’t haunted by the voices of comrades lost that couldn’t quite be heard by the ears. The commander let out a sigh and inadvertently gave his hand a squeeze.

“Do you think,” the sleeper mumbled, “there are gods, like they say?”

“If there are, they have no pity on any creature in this world, inside or outside of the walls.”

The first said nothing, silently agreeing with the commander.

“At any rate, if there were, they would not be on our sides. It seems the men who would fight for the lives and freedom of other men are never fighting in the interest of the gods.” The commander kept his eyes forward, watching the shadows of the night.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, but that might just depend on what side of the walls you’re on.”

The commander gave a mirthless laugh.

“Isn’t that what this whole war has been about the whole time? Except now it’s titans against titans and men against men.”

The boy sighed, and said something very much beyond his years.

“Men have always been against men.”

“Humanity is not in harmony with itself, nor has it ever been, I agree. I doubt you’ve been allowed to read the volumes of ancient history, before the walls, but if you had, you’d know. This has always been the case. In those days, some were naive enough to think that an external enemy could unite men, but they were of course wrong. There is no uniting all men.”

“No, but we can have our allies.”

“We can have our allies, yes.” The commander echoed the sleeper and gave his hand an intentional squeeze.

They stayed motionless again for a time and then turned to look at one another, though without the moon or the candle, there was nothing to see. Neither needed eyes to tap into the energy around them; they’d been in tune their entire walk. Neither was surprised when the younger of the two closed the distance between them and brought about the sensation of chapped lips on lips worried raw by teeth.

If there was something to be felt by the contact, they felt it together, though if there was not, they both felt its nothingness. It was not brief, nor was it passionate. It was an affirmation of one another’s suffering, and acknowledgement of their crimes. It perpetuated in the darkness until there was no darkness and the moon was finally allowed through the clouds again and they pulled apart to see the light.

The commander rose first, rather practiced at doing so without his arms, and held on to the boy’s hand as he did so. The sleeper was quick to follow, partially pulled up by the commander.

“Shall we?” The commander motioned forward with his chin, his face expressionless.

“Yes,” the sleeper answered, and they continued as if they’d never stopped, hand-in-hand as faithful allies. 


End file.
